Fortune's Fools
by Fyrie
Summary: HP/Buffy(S2) Xover - In the lead up to the final battle against Voldemort, Harry finds an ally in the form of a mysterious girl claiming to be a 'Slayer'.
1. It Begins

"I'm still not quite sure I understand this," Harry Potter said quietly.

Sitting in Dumbledore's office, in front of the Head Master, his eyes kept drifting to the girl who was seated in the other seat in front of the desk, her hands folded in her lap and her eyes down demurely.

Late spring sunlight was pouring in through the windows around the round room, several of the occupants of paintings on the walls erecting sunshades with materials within the portraits.

The light also silhouetted the girl's face and gave her a strangely ethereal glow that Harry was trying hard not to notice. He had been unable to really see her features because of the light and knew that had to be a good thing, because if she were pretty, he would only be distracted.

"Ah have been sent ta help ye," she mumbled, looking at him. His vision adjusted and he had to blink several times, staring at her in dismay. The girl ducked her head, a dark glow spreading across her cheeks.

The Head Master nodded to Harry. "This young lady has been provided by one of the muggle councils to help you in the impending battle with Voldemort," he said. "She will be capable of fighting the supernatural elements."

His eyes moving from Dumbledore to the girl uncertainly, Harry couldn't help thinking it had to be some kind of joke. "Is... I mean, are you magical?"

"Ah-Ah-Ah am... that is... Ah am di Slayer..."

Oh wonderful.

Someone who resorted to using an acronym of 'a homicidal maniac'.

"The Slayer?" he echoed, looking at Dumbledore, wondering if the old man had finally gone around the twist entirely.

Blue eyes twinkled at him and he couldn't help feeling that he had missed something along the line. "I see you haven't had a chance to finish your Defence Against the Dark Arts studies."

"Well, seeing as there's an impending war coming up, sir," Harry hoped he sounded more sincere than sarcastic. "I thought that preparing myself to fight for my life was more important."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, Harry," he murmured, rising to his feet. "Perhaps I should have explained a little earlier that this young lady is no mere muggle. And no mere mortal for that matter. She is the Slayer."

"Um... yes, we had covered that..."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore directed his words at the girl, who was fidgeting nervously in her seat. "You would be kind enough to explain to Mister Potter what a Slayer is and how it will benefit him."

"Of-of course, sir," the girl replied, shyly looking at Harry. "In every generation, dere is one. She alone will stand against di vampires, di demons an' di forces of darkness. She is di Slayer. Ah-Ah am di Slayer and Ah have been sent ta help you fight dis Voldemort."

Harry gave her a look. "I still don't understand how you are meant to fight."

"Ah am stronger dan Ah look," the girl said stubbornly, lifting her chin. "Ah have been fightin' vampires an' demons for a year an' Ah'm still alive."

"When you say fighting vampires and demons..."

"She means it quite literally," Dumbledore answered for her, beaming. "She had acute senses and superhuman strength on her side, which means she is physically able to defeat subhuman creatures in hand-to-hand combat. Assuming that the demons have hands, that is."

A feeling of disbelief washed over Harry and he stared at the girl, who immediately went a deep shade of scarlet, her head down.

She looked so delicate and pretty, so utterly incapable of swatting even a fly. Black hair was braided elaborately over a tawny-hued, heart-shaped face, her almond-shaped eyes dark brown and intense.

However, it was the sad maturity in her face that he finally noticed, her expression serious and contemplative.

"So...you're a Slayer... how long does that ability last?"

She shrugged, twisting her hands together nervously. "Until Ah die," she replied, so matter-of-factly that he was convinced he had to be hearing things. "When Ah die, di next Slayer is called."

"Die? You mean die-die? As in dead?"

"It is di way of tings," she replied nonchalantly. "A Slayer is called and sooner or later, she will die, like di one before me. Den anudder is called ta take her place. It is di way it has always been."

"You don't care that you might die?" Harry was stunned.

"Ah do mah duty," she replied. "If Ah die to save someone or someting, Ah have served me purpose."

Green eyes narrowed. "You do realise you're mad, don't you?" Brown eyes stared at him in confusion. Harry winced. "I didn't mean to say that out loud, but honestly, you're ready to die because you're this... Slayer-thing?"

"Ah am not afraid ta die," she said, raising her chin proudly. "It doesn't mean Ah plan ta let it happen any time soon. If Ah die, it happens. If Ah don't, As will keep fightin' as long as Ah can. It is mah destiny. I can not fight it."

Destiny.

Suddenly, Harry understood where she was coming from.

All his life had been leading to the point that would come in the final battle, where he would face Voldemort for what would - hopefully - be the last time. It was the final destination of his journey as he knew it.

If he defeated Voldemort or if he was defeated himself, then he would have fulfilled his purpose. That was all that had ever been in his future. He had no idea what he would do, if he came out on top. 

"You're willing to help us?"

The girl nodded. "Mah Watcher said dat Ah shouldn't get involved wit' battles between wizards, but dere are very dark powers risin' and Ah have ta fight dem. Mah Watcher doesn't know dat Ah have come here."

"Watcher?"

"He is mah guide and teacher."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Where does he believe you are?"

The girl shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Ah was meant ta be goin' back ta Sunnydale ta help di odder Slayer dere, but Ah could feel di dark powers gatherin' here and t'ought dat Ah should help."

"Hold on... did you just say 'other slayer'?"

"Ah-Ah did," she replied, ducking her head again. 

"But you said there could only be one after the other one died."

She nodded. "She died...but she had a friend to-to revive her. Ah have fought wit' her before. She doesn't need me wit' her right now. Ah t'ought Ah would fight here, den go and help Buffy."

"Your help will be gratefully accepted," Dumbledore said gently. "And now, I'm sure you've had a long journey. Perhaps Harry can show you to your room and get you something to eat?"

Standing up, the Slayer bowed at the waist. Harry couldn't help noticing that she had a very good figure with a surprising amount of curves for such a tone figure. "Ah am grateful, sir," she said. "Ah hope Ah am not seen to be imposing."

"Of course not," Dumbledore replied. "Harry?" Harry blinked, jerking his attention away from checking out her tightly-clad figure. "Perhaps you can show our guest to one of the rooms and then show her where she can eat?"

"Of-of course, sir," Harry parroted dutifully, getting to his feet, mentally screaming all manner of obscenities at the Head Master, who beamed at him.

Damn it!

The year he finally had been able to get over Cho and focus completely on what was coming at school and in relation to Voldemort, Dumbledore had to go and find a girl who was even prettier than Cho.

"And Harry," the Head Master added. The seventeen-year-old wizard could swear his saw a wicked glint of mischief in the Head Master's blue eyes. "I would be very grateful if you could keep an eye on our guest."

Damn, damn, damn!

"I-I don't know, sir... shouldn't someone else...?" Dumbledore flashed a penetrating look at him and Harry sighed internally. "Very well, sir, I'll take care of... um..." At that moment a rather embarrassing thought struck him. "Er... I don't think I caught your name, Miss..."

Raising her incredibly dark eyes to him timidly, she nervously wet her full lips with the tip of a pink tongue. "Ah...Ah am... Dat is..." she mumbled, twisting her hands together. "Mah name is Kendra." 


	2. A Connection

Fortune's Fools - Chapter Two

Notes: All right, I'll admit I have a soft spot for Kendra :) The poor girl really didn't get a break, did she? Most people seem to forget that, like Faith, Kendra has been a Slayer for a while before she hit Sunnydale, so she had to be doing something before then, no? 

_________________________________________

After making their way through the corridors of the school, the halls unusually sparse in populace, Harry and the so-called Vampire Slayer headed along the hall that lead past the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

It was oddly disconcerting for Harry to have the girl with him.

For one thing, he couldn't tell if she was still behind him as he walked, her foot falls silent, her breathing even more so. She wouldn't even walk level with him, lingering a pace or two behind him, as if in respect, which really was very strange.

Turning into a side passage, which wasn't too far from the Main Hall, Harry stopped in front of a painting of a little girl playing with a bunch of flowers. It peered at him, then at the girl behind him, nodded and opened.

"And this, uh, is your room," Harry offered lamely.

The tawny-skinned, girl beside him lifted her head, looking into the room. "T'ank you," she said carefully, her eyes darting briefly to him, her face colouring before she averted her gaze again.

Harry cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to the other. "Is… is it okay?"

Brandy-brown eyes lifted again, just slightly.

"Yes."

Damnit! Why was she making things so difficult?

Entering the large room to show her around all the extra features that Dumbledore had no doubt kitted it out with, he heard a muted sound escape her and looked at her quizzically. "What?"

Her head ducked again. "Not'ing."

Oh, wonderful.

"No," he said, turning to face her. "You made a noise. Are you… is there something I can…" A hand ran through his unruly hair and he exhaled, partly frustrated, partly confused. "Have I done something to upset you or something? Do you just want me to leave you to get on with things? Would you prefer that? I mean, Dumbledore said I had to look after you, but if you don't want me to…"

The girl's eyes lifted to him in shock. "You? Done somet'ing?" She shook her head vehemently, surprise marked on her face. "I-I am sorry. I-I jus' haven't talked ta many boys before and I-I don' know what ta say."

Harry blinked at her, wondering if it would be a bad thing to bite off his own tongue for being so blunt and harsh. "Er… sorry," he said lamely. Well, what else could he say, really? "I didn't know."

Kendra tentatively lifted her head, gazing at him for a little longer than usual, which wasn't really much from what he could tell. "You don' have ta go," she said with care, licking her lips nervously. "I-I t'ink I might need someone ta help me find my way around here."

"Oh."

Oh, very eloquent, Harry old son.

A pretty blush spread across her cheeks, as if startled by her own daring at speaking to him. "Dat is, if ye don't have somet'in' else ye would rather be doin' than spendin' time wit' a Vampire Slayer."

"N-no… no, nothing to do…"

And this is the wonder of the wizarding world is it, Harry? Reduced to a stammering wreck when a pretty girl blushes in your general direction? Oh, there really is no hope for you. None whatsoever.

Twisting her hands together shyly, Kendra stepped into the room beside him and he could see the awe on her face as she saw the room in its full glory, her dark eyes going round in wonder.

"I think Dumbledore, that is I think the Professor had it specially decorated for you."

Staring about her, the girl turned, taking in everything, from the training area and store of elaborate muggle weaponry on one side of the room, to the sleeping quarters at the other end. 

"Dis is beautiful," she said, clearly shocked. Crossing the floor, she stooped to pick up one of the swords that hung in a rack. "He didden need ta go ta so much effort. Ah-Ah would have been happy wit' just a bed… dis… it's too much…"

"I-I… um…"

Harry trailed off into silence, his eyes going round in astonishment, as he watched the girl perform a series of slashes and parries with the sword, the sheer speed of her every move almost supernatural.

Moving lightly on her toes, she spun, pivoted, arched, bringing the narrow strip of metal in graceful arcs over and before her body, grace flowing in her every move with an ease that spoke of years of experience.

Whirling to a halt, the blade upraised before her face, she flashed a hesitant smile at Harry, which faded at once, apparently at his expression. "Ah… what is it? Did Ah do somet'ing wrong? Was dis not for me ta touch?"

Blinking, Harry stared at her. "Wow…"

Scarlet suffused her features. "Ah-Ah jus' did what I was trained to."

"But you… you look too young to be able to fight like that," Harry blurted out, staring at her and the strangely natural way she loosely held the sword. "You… you just picked it up and you were… how did you learn to fight like that?"

Kendra's head was down once more and she shuffled her feet, clearly embarrassed by his reaction. "Ah was raised dat way by me Watcher," she stammered. "Ah didden know any odder way."

"And your parents didn't mind?" Harry could not believe any parents would be determined enough to have their child thrown into such a situation. Surely they would have tried to protect their daughter!

The girl shrugged, replacing the sword on the rack. "Ah didden know them," she said, without any sadness. "Dis was mah destiny and dey believed it was more important dan anyt'ing else. Dey gave me to me Watcher when I was old enough."

"WHAT!?" Kendra flinched back at the vehement tone in his voice and Harry felt a flush creeping up his face. "I'm sorry," he said hastily. "I-I just don't understand. How could they just… give you away like that? To fight and die?"

Kendra seemed unable to meet his eyes. "It-it is di way of me people," she said, her tone one of caution, as if she expected to get in trouble for speaking out of turn. "It is very rare for a Slayer ta be born in our country and it-it is a great honour…" she trailed off into silence, toying awkwardly with her bracelets.

"But they gave you away…" Harry said, as if unable to understand it. His own mother had died rather than save her own life, yet this girl… her parents had simply handed her over to someone else?

"Dey believed it would be for my own good," she said a little heatedly, raising her brown eyes to his, a flash of fire in the dark depths. "If Ah had not been taken, den Ah would not know how ta fight like Ah do now and Ah would have been killed a long time ago."

"If you had never learned to fight, what makes you think you would have turned into a Slayer anyway?" Harry countered, shaking his head. "If your parents had kept you, couldn't you have… wouldn't they have been able to teach you?"

She studied him for several minutes in silence, the intensity of her gaze making the young wizard shift uncomfortably. "Di calling of di Slayer is not one dat you can fight," she finally said, lowering her eyes. "It is in yer blood. If ye are born to be a Slayer, dere is not'ing you can do about it."

"You have to be a Slayer?"

"Yes," Kendra answered simply, studying hr hands distractedly. "An' if Ah can help people, even if dey don't know about it, den Ah will have done somet'ing wort'while wit' mah life."

Harry felt an odd stirring in his chest again, a strange emotion, as he stared at the girl. Yes, he was staring. He could admit it. There was something in the way she behaved that he wished he could grasp, something about her acceptance of her fate. 

She would eventually die, because it was what she was born to do.

He would eventually kill – or be killed by – Voldemort, which was what he had apparently been born to do.

For the first time, he had someone who was in a situation similar to his own, someone who knew what it was like to face death, day in and day out, someone who had learned to accept what fate had handed them.

Glancing towards the door, he chewed on his lip for a minute, then looked back at Kendra, who had raised her eyes timidly to his face again. "Would you like to go and get something to eat?" he blurted out, feeling rather stupid that he could not come up with something more eloquent.

To his relief and delight, Kendra's lips curved in a shy smile. "I would like dat," she said, ducking her head again. "I would like dat very much."


End file.
